


How deep do you fall

by katnor



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Freckles, Prosaic Nerdanel, Romantic Fëanor, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katnor/pseuds/katnor
Summary: Match-making mother with unhappy daughter and a crown prince who really couldn't care less for finery.





	How deep do you fall

**Author's Note:**

> None of them are mine.

His eyes fell on her again, across the ballroom. Her coppery hair glowed in the light from the overhead chandeliers, pinned up in a complicated hairdo that made her look more mature, but less like the girl he was used to seeing at the supper table. He wasn’t sure he liked the change. She was always beautiful in his eyes, but a lot of that beauty stemmed from her lively nature and her passion for her craft. In this setting, she seemed subdued, cold and haughty, and her eyes were hard as dark green gemstones, with no warmth in them at all. 

The dress she was wearing was elaborate, a deep blue velvet adorned with so much gold and jewels it was a wonder she could move at all. Her lips were set in a thin line, and she frowned unhappily at her mother who was leaning towards her, whispering furiously in her ear. So that was it then, he thought, her mother was trying to have her make an impression on royalty, never realising that at least one of them preferred the girl dressed in tunic and tights and a stained apron. 

He hesitated briefly, then made his way across the ballroom, bowing over her hand and then glancing up again, meeting her eyes. ”Would you honour me with a dance, my lady?” Her eyes softened a little, and she nodded without answering. Her mother nodded as well, smiling benevolently. Of course she would, he thought cynically. He was, after all, the crown prince, and as such considered a real catch. 

He led her out on the floor and they flowed smoothly into the dance, whirling away from her mother quickly, vanishing among the other dancers. They slid through the crowd, and when they reached the far end of the ballroom he grabbed her hand and pulled her along, out through one of the open archways and into the formal gardens. They ran laughing along the garden paths, only slowing down when they got to a small gazebo half-hidden in a labyrinth of greenery. There he stopped, pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. They broke the kiss after a while to catch their breath, then kissed again, slow and gentle this time. 

He pulled away a little, looking into her eyes that now sparkled with joy and love, and pushed his hands into her hair, shedding hairpins and clips and pulling on her copper curls. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders and back, and she giggled happily, seemingly unconcerned about the veritable rain of precious stones. 

”Nel, my Nel... most precious of all jewels... stars in your eyes, constellations on your skin, you glow like nothing else I have ever seen... I can wait no longer. Come with me to talk to your father tonight!” 

”They are called freckles... and what would we talk to my father about?” 

He grinned at her. ”There is not one romantic bone in your body, Nerdanel.” 

”You have enough for both of us Fëanáro... let us go talk to my father then.” They slipped away through the garden, hand in hand, Nerdanel glancing indulgently at her dark-haired suitor who was mumbling poetic phrases, trying to find the right words to tell her formidable father.

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing Fëanor, who is, frankly, very intimidating. Even when young.


End file.
